


Jus Tertii

by lilacsigil



Category: Daredevil (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Lawyers, Ninja, Shadowland (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsigil/pseuds/lilacsigil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ADA Kirsten McDuffie is used to being threatened, but she did not expect to be rescued, bloodily, by known assassin Elektra Natchios. Now she has to figure out just how ninjas, assassins and her current case all link together in the aftermath of Shadowland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jus Tertii

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/gifts).



"Don't you dare!" Kirsten smacked the first man in the groin with the corner of her briefcase, sending him to the ground in a moaning heap, but the second man pulled a gun. Kirsten froze. 

"You heard what we said, bitch. Make sure the Simpson paperwork gets lost or we'll be back, and next time we won't just be talking."

She kept her eyes on the gun. "You know I'm going to take this straight to the cops, right?"

The man was about to reply when the point of a weapon suddenly protruded from his throat and he gasped and died in a rain of blood. Kirsten backed up, but she didn't really have anywhere to go. As the man dropped to the ground, she caught a glimpse of a woman in red, then she was gone. 

Pulling herself together, Kirsten ran around the dead body and its spreading pool of blood. The man she had injured cringed away from her fast he hit the wall. 

"Who was that? What happened?" she demanded while dialling 911. 

"The Hand," the man gasped. "They're here! You've got to protect me!" 

That was quite a turn-around from grabbing her and threatening violence. "Sure, I'll protect you to the best of my ability. Tell me more."

"They're crazy magical ninja zombies from Japan! Their leader isn't Japanese, though, she's some crazy European chick. We thought they were gone, man, we really thought they were gone or we wouldn't have gone into their territory!"

The cops thundered in then, and Kirsten managed to tell them to keep her in the loop before she went upstairs to her apartment and, legs shaking, collapsed in a chair. She thought she didn't feel afraid, but obviously her body felt differently. She'd have to give a statement once the detectives arrived, but right now she just wanted to take off her blood-spattered shoes and pantihose and get clean. She could do the first two, at least, and put the shoes and pantihose in a bag for the detectives. She really needed to move to a more secure building. And she would, as soon as she could actually afford it. 

One of the detectives, Santiago, she'd worked with before prosecuting minor league drug dealers, and the older one, Moore, she'd seen in court a few times. 

"Yeah, six outstanding warrants on the living guy, four on the dead guy. Can you go over what happened, Ms McDuffie?" Detective Santiago had her notebook out. 

"They were waiting in the lobby when I got home, and the first guy, the one who's still alive, grabbed me by the shoulders and said if I didn't do what they said, they'd cut me up. I hit him in the balls with my briefcase and the second guy pulled a gun and said I had to mess up the Simpson case. Uh, lose the papers, I think he said specifically."

"That's one of yours?" 

"It's a vehicular homicide case, a forklift driver named Duane Simpson who ran over a pedestrian in a loading bay while drunk. I have no idea why it's attracted this attention. Talk to Detective Camacho, he's the lead."

"Oh yeah, I know Camacho. And then what happened?"

"Then he was stabbed in the neck and died. I saw someone, just for a moment. It looked like a woman dressed in red." Kirsten frowned. "Definitely long black hair and wearing red. Probably a woman. She was so fast, though."

Santiago wrote it down as Moore shook his head, resignedly. "Name's Elektra Natchios. She's an assassin for hire, mixed up with that Japanese gang, the Hand. She's wanted on various murder charges running back quite a few years, but she's never so much as seen the inside of a cell. SHIELD crap all over her file. She was supposed to be dead at one stage, but I guess that didn't stick."

"Really? So what would be her interest in the Simpson case?"

Moore shrugged poetically. "Beats me. There's a few reports of her saving women being threatened by men, always with excessive force, so maybe you just got lucky."

Kirsten disagreed. "No, I don't think that's it, because the guy she left alive was terrified and started talking about how they went into the Hand's territory."

"Guess he was more coherent for you than for us," Santiago laughed. "And no, we don't need your shoes, thanks. We've got plenty of blood spatter to go on with. I'll leave my card in case you think of anything else."

"Thanks, detectives. Let me know how it goes, okay?" They exchanged cards and the detectives left. Kirsten suddenly wondered if she should have offered them something to eat, but all she had was leftover takeout and breakfast cereal anyway. She didn't even have any milk for the cereal. 

She poked at the takeout containers, decided that the beef noodles were still okay, and went off to have a shower and scrub the blood spots off her legs. Lucky her shoes were cheap, shiny PVC: they should clean up nicely. 

Cleaned up, Kirsten heated up her dinner and sat down in front of her laptop. She still had work to do from today, but she went immediately to look up this Elektra Natchios. She was wanted in nine countries, all for murder, and had last been seen in New York that time that Daredevil got arrested for being Daredevil. Stupid grandstanding – all his lawyers would have had to have done is got it to a jury trial in New York and no-one would have convicted him of a thing. The case had collapsed, but it was a surprise to read that Elektra the murderer was a known associate both of Daredevil and the lawyer who'd been accused of being Daredevil, Matthew Murdock. Well, that was weird. Still, she couldn't see what it had to do with her vehicular homicide case. 

She tried reading about the Hand instead – they'd taken over a block in Hell's Kitchen recently and put up a giant temple, and for some reason the Avengers had been all hinky about attacking it. Superhero politics were strange. Now there was a link: the forklift death had been on the next block. She remembered that everyone had started fighting each other in the streets, then the big scary Japanese-style temple collapsed, but maybe the Hand were still maintaining interest in the area. She made a few notes, then turned back to her actual job. 

In the morning, her roommate Dina was sitting at their tiny kitchen bench eating cereal. 

"You got milk! Dina, you're an angel!"

"It was your turn. Again. But I ate the remains of your Thai green curry when I got in last night, so I forgive you."

"Aw, I was saving that." Kirsten wasn't really, but maybe it would make it seem more valuable and Dina would keep remembering to buy milk even when it wasn't her turn. 

"Oh, hey, did you hear a guy got stabbed in the lobby last night?"

"Uh huh." Kirsten made herself cereal and put some sugar on it. Healthy cereal tasted awful. 

"Oh my god, you were there, weren't you?"

"How did you know?"

"Otherwise you would have been all over me asking what happened, like that time I told you about Johnny Storm being brought into the ER!" Dina was an resident at Mercy General and had an even more brutal schedule than Kirsten.

"Okay, so two guys tried to mug me and a superhero showed up. One of the violent ones."

"Wolverine?" Dina said hopefully. She liked solid guys.

Kirsten started shovelling in her cereal. She had to leave in twenty minutes and she hadn't done her Professional Lawyer make-up yet. "No, Elektra, apparently. She stabbed one of them and vanished. It was really weird."

"Huh, that is weird. Did you try to save the guy? Did you get hurt at all?"

Kirsten shook her head. "He was very, very dead. And I've got a bruise on my shoulder where one of them grabbed me, but that's it. The detective I spoke to said this Elektra does this sometimes, saves women in trouble. With violence."

"We really need to move buildings."

"And the second we start making the big dollars they promised in those college brochures, we will!"

Dina laughed and put her bowl in the sink. "I won't be back until late tonight. Be good."

"Always!"

Kirsten was in court the entire morning – a grand jury appearance that consisted mostly of waiting around – but she managed to text Detective Camacho and ask him if there were any links between the Simpson case and the Hand. Camacho texted back that he was also at court, and did she want to meet up for lunch?

Camacho was young for a detective, and was attempting to camouflage the fact by growing a hearty moustache. It worked about as well as Kirsten putting on heavy make-up in an attempt to look 21 during undergrad, and Camacho constantly poked and pulled at his facial hair, as if he wasn't quite sure it was real. Kirsten bought them each a sandwich and coffee from the market in Foley Square. 

"Oh, thanks, this is great. I've been in court all morning," Camacho took the sandwich gratefully. "Some idiot contesting a minor assault charge, wasting everyone's time."

"Yeah, bail hearings for me. So, do you think there's any connection between the Simpson case and the Hand? The guys who tried to warn me off last night thought so."

"Santiago called me this morning, filled me in. Always more paperwork when supers get involved – I mean, I'm glad you're okay, but it's gonna be a mess to get through court."

Kirsten laughed. "At least I can recuse myself from that one!"

Camacho laughed too, and shook his head. "Anyway, I don't know about a link to the Hand, but there's a clear link between the guy Simpson killed and your two guys. They've been arrested together before, and word has it that they're all in this guy Turk's crew. Turk used to be in with the Kingpin, back in the day, but with Fisk gone, he's running his own crew. I mean, I've met the guy, he's an idiot, but he knows everyone and he knows his way around. He moves a lot of stuff around for other people, hard to pin anything on him directly, you know?"

"I know the type. So Simpson killed their friend and they don't want the trial to go ahead? That seems weird." Kirsten frowned.

"Right? At the very least you'd think they'd want Simpson locked up where they can get at him."

"Thanks, Camacho. I'll see which ADA's lucky enough to have scored this case. Maybe they've got more on their motivations."

"No problem, and thanks for lunch."

Kirsten finished her sandwich and headed back to the office in the hope of getting through at least ten percent of her inbox before the end of the day. Mid-afternoon, Greg the paralegal sent her a flagged email. Simpson's lawyer wanted his blood sample re-tested. Okay, she had no problem with that. 

She took a few minutes to check out the victim, Jaiden Graumann. Only 22, he already had a long list of convictions. There hadn't been any explanation of why he'd been in the delivery area of a hardware/garden store when Simpson ran him down with the forklift, early that morning. He'd had had four hundred dollars on him, an expensive watch, new – if dirty – sneakers, an open pack of cigarettes and half an ounce of meth. That wasn't what you'd expect to find on a homeless parole violator sleeping rough at the back of a store. 

Paul Serrano, just two desks down from her, had been assigned the entire mess of a case, from the assault on Kirsten to the murder of Castro. Kirsten headed down for a visit. 

"Hey, Paul."

"Oh, hi, Kirsten. You doing okay?"

"I guess you read all the gruesome details. Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, being the victim in this case has put me in a kind of awkward position, since it's linked to one of my other cases. When you talk to Price or his lawyer, could you ask him about his late associate Jaiden Graumann? I'll send you over the details."

"Sure, no problem, as long as I can keep the two separate. I guess you can't really go to talk to him about it with the assault case in progress."

"Oppressed at every turn! Thanks, Paul. If you need to ask me for more details, you know where I work!"

"Can't miss it," Paul replied, and turned back to his email.

Kirsten had been hoping to pry a few more details out of him, but no-one should get between a lawyer and their email. She had enough of that to deal with herself.

By the end of the day, she hadn't quite made ten percent of her inbox, but Simpson's lawyer had agreed to a re-test instead of a court appearance, so that was something. Miraculously, she was out of there in time to make her climbing booking instead of having to wait for a space, and spent the next hour hauling herself up and across a fake rock wall, pleasantly focused on just one thing. 

Dina was still at work when Kirsten got home, so she thought vaguely about cooking, thought again, and ordered Indian instead. While she ate, she checked out the area of West Midtown that had had that weird temple on it, and where Simpson had run down Graumann. The multi-story temple had sprung up literally overnight on the site of a mass bombing committed by Bullseye – real name unknown – and had collapsed just as quickly not long after. There was now an epic legal battle going on between several parties who'd had interests in the site. In the meantime, the site was fenced off and the police were frequently called to drive off souvenir hunters and loud protestors. 

She sighed. She could already see that she was going to be heading over there on Saturday and checking out the place. It was going to nag at her until she did. With that, she turned back to her preparation for tomorrow's trial, a straightforward assault case.

Kirsten usually slept well, except for the occasional exam flashback dream, so it was really annoying that she was awake enough to hear Dina come in just after midnight. She wandered out of her room to say hi anyway.

"Hey Dina. How was work?"

"Ugh, terrible. Drunks splitting their heads open everywhere, a couple of ODs, kids with fevers. Nothing fun at all. Ooh, thanks for getting me some Indian."

"No problem. My day was fine, and now I can't sleep."

"Weird how that goes! Did you get to go climbing, at least?"

"Yeah, I did. But I can feel there's a piece of this case just out of reach and it's going to itch in my brain until I get some answers."

Dina shovelled in her curry without bothering to heat it up. "I hate that. At least if I've got a mystery patient I can go back the next day and see what the path tests tell me. So, you're going to go investigate? Be careful, okay? They've already shown up here once."

"I will. It sounds like they're all pissing their pants over Elektra anyway, so I guess that will help keep them away."

Dina laughed. "I wish people were that scared of me! I had a patient lecture me about how he didn't need stitches tonight!"

"Did you stitch him up anyway?"

"I gave him a towel for the bleeding and told him I'd give him half an hour to reconsider. Then he was happy enough to go along with me. Maybe I need to dress up like a ninja or something." She struck a martial arts pose. "Hi-ya! Do what I say!"

Kirsten laughed. "I think in this case it's more that she's killed dozens of people and they know it. Not a good look for a doctor."

"Pfft, whatever, I'm just here for the respect."

Kirsten went back to bed, feeling a bit more settled. She could handle this, scary guardian angel or not. 

Back at the office, she had an email from Paul Serrano, who'd been out at Rikers Island all morning. Getting there and back was time-consuming, so Kirsten wasn't surprised he was getting work done while he waited.

_Hi Kirsten,_

_Spoke to Mr Price this morning. He says Graumann was a buddy of his and he wants Simpson to, and I quote, "burn in Hell". But his boss, who he wouldn't name, told him to go rough you up and tell you to lose the paperwork. Price is surprisingly cooperative now that he is terrified of ninjas coming to kill him, but he's got too many friends on the inside to actually give names. Det. Camacho said he'd spoken to you, so you probably know who Price's boss is anyway._

_Good luck!_

_Paul_

She sent back a thank you, and thought about what Camacho had told her: Price worked for a guy named Turk, who wasn't too smart but had a lot of connections. Price probably had no idea why his boss didn't want the Simpson case to go ahead. Either someone was looking out for Simpson, or there was something about Graumann's presence at the hardware store loading bay that someone didn't want investigated. As far as Kirsten had been able to tell, Duane Simpson the forklift driver was an open book: he was in a long downward spiral of alcoholism, getting clean and finding a job, then drinking again and losing it. Unless something more came to light about Simpson, it must be Graumann's actions that was relevant to Turk and his men.

The rest of the afternoon was a scramble but finally, around eight pm, she felt that had enough done to justify some kind of weekend. She wasn't rostered on at the courthouse until Sunday evening, so she was going to make the most of her actual break. 

Dina was home too, for once, and dressing up for a date. 

"Nice! Is it a doctor again?"

Dina pirouetted. "You like the pink dress? No, a lawyer this time. A bit older than me, but a nice guy."

"Yeah, you know that dress looks awesome. I hope he's better than the last lawyer you dated."

"Oh, Mr 'I like my women in high heels, I don't care that you just came off a 14-hour shift and your feet are killing you'? I consider that an excellent warning sign. And at least I got dinner before I had to walk out."

"Ha, you've got your priorities in order."

"Are you going out? I only ask in case we get frisky and need to pick somewhere private to go."

"I wasn't planning to, but if you're in desperate need, just text. It would probably be good for me to go somewhere other than work, gym and here."

"Thanks, sweetie." Dina kissed Kirsten's cheek, leaving lipstick traces behind, and swanned off out the door. 

Saturday morning was rainy and chilly, and there was a message from Dina saying she'd had a good night and was taking said date out to breakfast. Kirsten sent her a thumbs up and went out to the gym, then on to breakfast herself. The weather was clearing, so it seemed like a good opportunity to go check out the mysterious Hand Temple. It would only take her about half an hour to get there and she had her book with her. She might not be a native New Yorker, but SF had given her plenty of practice reading on crowded public transport. 

To her surprise, the block where the temple had been was quite busy. There were people hawking souvenirs, tourists taking pictures and kids daring each other to climb the fence, though no-one was actually doing it. The temple itself was a great dark heap of debris and ash, thick wooden beams sticking up into the air, all collapsed down to about two stories of ruin behind a tall chain link fence. The morning's rain had turned some of the ash into thick black sludge, seeping out into the street. The hawkers casually avoided it, but the occasional tourist or passer-by stepped in it and cursed. 

"If it touches you, you turn evil in like, one minute," one kid said to another, and Kirsten had to admit that, even though she knew it was just ash mixed with water, she didn't want to touch it either. 

She walked across the street to the next block, where the hardware store was. She'd read the owners' statements about Duane Simpson, but she hadn't met them in person. 

"Hi, I'm Kirsten McDuffie from the District Attorney's office. Would you mind if I had a look around your loading dock?" They were under no obligation to comply without a warrant, but Kirsten had found that the direct approach was the best: people were more willing to talk to her than a cop a lot of the time, in order to explain their side of the story.

"Of course, please, come through." Mrs Gupta, the owner, took her through the back of the crowded store to the loading dock and parking area. 

Kirsten stood on the loading dock, which ran along the back of several stores, and looked around. There were piles of discarded wooden pallets, assorted garbage and a fresh delivery being unloaded at the café at the end of the row. Dumpsters sat in a cluster at the end of the loading dock. It would have been simple enough for Jaiden Graumann to just walk in from the parking lot, but why would he be here at all? Kirsten tried to peer around and look at the ruined temple, but it wasn't visible from the loading dock, no matter what angle she tried: the row of stores was in the way. According to the crime scene photos, Graumann had been crushed between the reversing forklift and a pile of pallets loaded with potting mix. Kirsten walked over to where those pallets had been – there was still a faint stain in the concrete where Graumann had bled to death – and tried to work out why he would have been there. It was right by the back door of the empty store next to the hardware, closer to the temple. She went back inside the hardware and cornered Mrs Gupta. 

"Do you know what store is next to you?"

Mrs Gupta shrugged. "I have no idea who's going in now. We hear them working sometimes, men coming and going, hammering and power tools, but my husband spoke with one of them and he said he was just doing repairs. He didn't know what kind of store it was going to be. I don't like being next to an empty store, it looks bad and attracts crime."

"Thanks for your help, Mrs Gupta. We'll keep you updated on the case."

"Thank you – it was a horrible shock, poor Duane. And I'm sure that young man was up to no good, hanging around there, but still, such a terrible accident. Duane had always been so reliable until he started with the drinking again." She shook her head, sadly. 

Kirsten knocked on the front door of the empty shop. She couldn't hear anyone inside right now, which was probably the fault of it being the weekend, but still, she thought she would try her luck. Nobody answered her knock. She peered inside, through a tiny gap in the paper stuck on the windows, but it was dark and the little she could see looked like an empty shop. No reason for Jaiden Graumann to be coming out the back door at five in the morning, if that's even what had happened. Kirsten sighed. She wasn't cut out to be a private investigator, that's for sure. 

"Lucky you've got that law degree then," she told herself as she walked back across the street to the temple. The rain was starting up again, though more mist than actual raindrops so far, and there were fewer sightseers around now. 

"You want a Shadowland sticker? Souvenir cap?" one of the hawkers asked her, eternally hopeful. He had a clear plastic rain cape covering both himself and his wares. 

"Hey, you must spend a lot of time here." Kirsten gave him a dollar for a sticker. "Do you ever see any activity in there?"

"Ah, people try to get in all the time. They get over the fence no problem, but they can't get into the temple. It's cursed."

Kirsten shook her head. "It doesn't have to be cursed, it's mostly collapsed."

"Well, not that there's much to see from here, but my buddy who was stuck in there says that there was all these cells and rooms under the temple, so who knows what's there?"

"Really? Huh. That is weird. But no-one ever makes it in?"

"A couple times I've seen two hot chicks fighting, always at night. Wish I could predict it, that'd pull the tourists in."

"Does one of them wear all red?"

"Ha ha, yeah, you seen her too? The other one wears black and white. But they're never here long." He frowned. "Never see them come in, either."

"That is weird. Thanks." Kirsten took her sticker and left. She didn't need this guy telling anyone about her interest in the woman in red. By the time she got to the corner the cheap ink was coming off on her damp fingers, so she dropped it in the trash. 

On the subway home, she checked out who the woman in black and white might be, but there were far too many options for Kirsten to narrow it down without further information. Still, it meant that something was going on at the ruin of the temple, something involving Elektra. Maybe Jaiden Graumann had been looking for her or the other woman when he died, not watching the temple itself. Five am was still dark at this time of year. 

Home again, Kirsten fired up her laptop and got back to work. She shouldn't be wasting all this time investigating the victim of a very straightforward vehicular homicide case – it didn't matter why Graumann had been there, only that he had. The image of the man dying in her hallway was still impressed on her memory, though, the sharp point protruding from his throat as he tried to speak. It was very different to a crime scene photo, and she hadn't expected that. She was sure now that it was all linked, but it still wasn't in focus. She hated an unsolved puzzle. 

As penance, she made herself work all afternoon, studiously avoiding the Simpson case. It was hardly the most urgent thing on her list. 

Dina came back around four, still in her pink dress, but with a cheap hoodie thrown over the top.

"Hey, Dina! Must have been some date!"

"He's a nice guy, okay? We chilled out all day, went to a movie…if I didn't have to be at work tonight I'd still be there."

"Good for you!"

Dina took the shower and went off for a quick nap before work. Med school had left her able to sleep anywhere, anytime, which was a good thing considering her endless and irregular shifts. 

Kirsten was still debating with herself whether or not she should go check out the temple at night when Dina headed out. Eventually, she made herself go to bed early, telling herself that if she woke up in time to go check out the temple she would, and if not, at least she would have had a good night's sleep. 

She awoke at three am and somehow she wasn't surprised at all. She got dressed and headed down to the station. It took a little longer to get all the way to the temple at this time of night, but she was there around four, in the dark. The night crowds were starting to turn from the late partiers to the early workers, and no-one looked twice at Kirsten in her jeans and jacket, even though she felt horribly conspicuous hanging around outside the temple. At least it wasn't raining.

Less than an hour later, Kirsten caught a glimpse of Elektra. She ran out of the temple and scaled the side of it like she was running up a steep hill rather than a wrecked beam. Another woman was right on her tail, dressed in a black and white outfit with targets on it, her face painted white like a geisha but without the rest of the geisha make-up. Elektra slowed and let the other woman catch up, and they fought standing on the shifting debris, Elektra trying to rip a short sword from the other woman's grip, the other woman fighting back and trying to stab Elektra with the weapon. Eventually the white-faced woman managed to knock Elektra from her perch with a sweep of a leg, and Elektra turned the fall into an elegant flip and solid landing. The other woman leapt down and attacked her immediately, and had her forced back against the chain link fence. Elektra was at a definite disadvantage, trying both to take the sword away and not get stabbed, while the other woman knew where Elektra's focus was and used that against her. 

Kirsten picked up a handful of concrete bits and flung them at the woman in black and white. They pinged off her back, causing no harm at all, but she was distracted for a moment, and in that moment Elektra wrenched the short sword from her grasp, climbed the fence with astonishing speed and fled into the night. Kirsten took a step back, suddenly realising she'd been left alone with a violent ninja. The woman stared at her for a moment as if memorising Kirsten's face, then shook her head and disappeared back into the temple. A moment after she vanished, Kirsten realised that she should have asked her about Graumann, but it was too late. 

She headed over to the next block, to the loading dock, and to her surprise she could hear men's voices inside the empty store next to the hardware. Five in the morning on Sunday was a weird time to be doing renovations. She went back around to the front window, where she'd peered in this morning, but there was a guy perched on the front step, looking bored and cold despite his cup of coffee. A lookout. Kirsten ducked back before he spotted her, and crashed right into the black and white-clad woman.

"Don't scream. I have no intention of hurting you." The woman's grip was very, very strong, so Kirsten stayed still. The woman let go. She was Asian, and Kirsten was surprised to see that she was not actually very tall. She'd looked much bigger and more intimidating when she was fighting on the roof. In person, she looked more like a dancer. 

"Who are you? What's going on in the temple? Did you send those goons after me?" Kirsten asked her. She might not get another chance.

"None of your business, and I apologise for the men sent after you. That was the initiative of an idiot trying to curry favour. There is no intention to harm you, as long as you don't keep poking your nose into our business. Go back to work, Ms McDuffie, and don't come here again."

"What is your business?" Kirsten couldn't stop herself asking questions, even though the woman was glaring at her and Kirsten had noticed she had several small knives tucked into her sash. 

"As I say, none of yours. Now go." She turned and disappeared around the corner, and when Kirsten followed, she was nowhere to be seen. 

"Hey! Get out of here!" came a male voice from behind her: the lookout. 

"Sure, fine, I'm just going," she muttered, and left. 

She didn't go very far, the scent of coffee luring her into a café a few blocks away, and she sat down with a giant cup of coffee to work out what the hell was going on. Googling on her phone for "ninja black white targets" brought up some info: the woman who had confronted her called herself Lady Bullseye of all things, and she'd been seen around the Hand temple before and during its brief reign, though it sounded from the blog reports that she'd been fighting against the ninjas there. She was fairly new to the super scene, and the superhero spotter blogs were unanimous that she was a villain of some kind. 

"Mind if I sit here?" A woman slid into the opposite chair, a coffee in hand. Kirsten was about to tell her to go somewhere else – the café was half empty at this time of morning – but she looked again.

"You're Elektra," Kirsten said quietly. Elektra was now dressed similarly to Kirsten, in jeans and a jacket, but somehow Elektra made it look elegant and put together. Her long dark hair was in a loose braid, and there was no make-up on her olive-skinned face except for deep red lipstick. 

"Yes. You're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep poking around the Hand. I've saved you once already."

"Well, thanks, but what's going on? My case is nothing special, what does it have to do with ninjas? And aren't you one of them?"

Elektra laughed. "No, not for a long time now. Currently, they are under the control of a very unpleasant man named Wilson Fisk."

"Fisk? But he had to leave the country under the terms of his deal with the Feds."

"Indeed, which is why he is keeping a very low profile at present. Lady Bullseye and a few others are keeping things running."

Kirsten shook her head. "Why would you name yourself after a mass-murderer? That's ridiculous."

"Notoriety, perhaps, or intimidation. In any case, she has proven quite successful in her goals, and is currently Fisk's number one lieutenant."

"She said she didn't send those guys after me, the one you killed." Kirsten glared at her. Elektra was obviously skilled enough to have stopped that man without killing him.

Elektra paid no attention to the glare. "No, she's more subtle than that. If she wants your case sabotaged, she'll do it without you even knowing. Fisk always makes sure to keep his underlings fighting each other to keep them from allying against him. It was probably one of them, trying to get ahead."

"It was very clumsy. But what are you doing here? Isn't the temple collapsed now? Why did you grab Lady Bullseye's sword?"

Elektra sipped her coffee. "Any more questions to add to the list? Lady Bullseye knew I was there looking for a sword, so she thought it would be amusing to taunt me with one. It was not the one I was looking for, but I couldn't know that until I could get hold of it."

"So you're breaking in there to look for a particular sword and she doesn't want you to get it? Because she surely doesn't want me poking around either, but I don't know anything about a sword."

"I think that perhaps you do, or at least she thinks you do. The Hand, who created this temple, are involved in a complex leadership battle. Fisk is in charge right now, but his position is not secure: many more traditional Hand are sick of non-Japanese leaders and allies, and there are other candidates ready to take his place. Fisk is a strong man, but he has little currency with the Hand. Lady Bullseye has more, but she is not ready to lead and she knows it."

"So they're leading in a team-up of sort? That must be the most back-stabby team of all time."

"Perhaps not of all time," Elektra allowed. "They are looking for a sword that belonged to the last Japanese leader of the Hand, Lord Hirochi, and before that to many other leaders of his clan. It's only a symbol, but possession of it would do a great deal to legitimise Fisk's rule."

Kirsten snapped her fingers. "That's what's going on in the empty shop! They can't be seen there while ownership is still being settled in the courts, so they've tunnelled through the basement wall and gone under the street to get into the temple and find this sword! Maybe they're the ones who put the word out about the temple being cursed, so people wouldn't try to go in."

"They have guards hidden inside to deal with anyone who does, which may add to the legend."

"Yeah, I'll bet. So Graumann – that's the guy who was run over – must have gone out for a smoke when he got hit by the forklift. And someone thinks my investigation is going to compromise the dig and tries to do his boss a favour by getting me away from it. Good job, there." 

"I don't think Graumann went out for a smoke. I think Graumann found the sword and is an untrustworthy little weasel who was going to sell it. The sword wouldn't have liked that."

Kirsten blinked, but Elektra had sounded totally serious. Well, she guessed a semi-sentient ninja sword wasn't the weirdest idea she'd ever considered. "Why wasn't it in his list of effects, then?"

"Either he hid it, or it hid itself. Where is Graumann's body now?"

Kirsten opened her mouth to reply, then stopped. "Wait a minute. Just because you saved me doesn't mean that I'm going to help you break the law."

Elektra shrugged. "Would you rather have Fisk in charge of the Hand?"

"Frankly, of the two of you, I know for sure that you're a murderer. I mean, odds are good that he is too, but he's never been convicted and I've never seen him actually kill someone right in front of me."

Elektra stood. "Then I will bid you farewell, Ms McDuffie, and wish you good luck in the future."

"Well, thank you?"

Elektra was gone, but at least this time she left like a normal person, walking out the door, instead of vanishing into thin air. When Kirsten went to pay for her coffee, the waitress waved her off. 

"Your friend paid for it. Nice tip, too."

Kirsten went home, to try to get some work done, but was too restless and went to the gym instead. By the time she got home from that – with just a few hours before she had to head in to work for her Sunday evening shift – Dina was awake and making pancakes. The smell of apples and vanilla filled the apartment.

"Wow, I came in at the right time!"

"You want some? They're a gluten free mix but they look okay. They're out of a gift basket from work." A good half of the food Dina consumed came from random gift baskets, some from patients and some from medical supply and drug companies. It wasn't that Kirsten's office wasn't offered gift baskets, but they were certainly not allowed to accept them.

"Thanks! I'm on duty tonight, so I was planning just to ruin my stomach lining with that disgusting courthouse coffee, but this is much better."

"That stuff is even worse than hospital coffee. No wonder all you lawyers are so bitter."

"Yeah, because you doctors aren't."

Kirsten ate a couple of pancakes, which were indeed tasty, before telling Dina about her day. 

"I met up with Elektra today."

"Murdery Elektra? What did she have to say for herself?"

"She was all 'I saved your life now help me find this mystic ninja weapon'. About what you'd expect, only way hotter."

"Nice! So are you going on a ninja spirit quest now?"

Kirsten snorted. "I think it was more of a sneak into the morgue quest. Anyway, I refused. I'm still mad at her for killing that guy in the lobby."

"Good for you! So, is she likely to be sneaking around here now?"

"I don't think she found me very useful, so hopefully not. She had kind of an intense stare." Kirsten mimicked it and Dina made the sign of the cross to repel her. 

"I told a few people at the hospital about your run-in with Elektra, and one of them had stitched up a ninja one time, it was kind of cool."

"Ninjas need stitches?"

"I guess! Anyway, the ninja was all 'if I am about to die, you must leave the room, kind doctor, or you will surely be destroyed!' But it was just a deep flesh wound, so he didn't die and we never found out what the hell he was talking about. I think SHIELD showed up and took him away."

"Well, Elektra was talking about sentient weapons, as far as I could figure, so who knows? Maybe his mystic ninja robes would get up and walk his corpse back to his temple!"

They both laughed and finished off the pancakes. 

Work was surprisingly quiet for a 5pm-1am Sunday shift, so Kirsten had the occasional spare moment to catch up. First thing Monday she had a horribly tangled family violence case to prosecute, and she'd already had difficulties with this particular judge and his opinions on reliable witnesses. Any extra time to prepare was time well spent. Even so, her mind kept drifting back to Elektra's questions about Graumann's body. What if the sword was hiding there, somehow? She doubted he'd had time to hide it elsewhere, if he'd walked out the back door of the fake renovating store and straight into a forklift.

What the hell, Kirsten thought, and looked up Stephen Strange's email in the list of departmental consultants. He was listed as "magic, supernatural and esoteric religion consultant" and she knew that Paul Serrano had brought him in last year with that whole voodoo mind control crime wave thing. She didn't need departmental approval if she kept it under the expense limit, which would buy her...one hour of his time. Right. Be succinct. She fired off an email explaining the basics of the case and attached the appropriate consultant forms. Many of the consultants on the list were hard to get hold of precisely because they were sought-after experts, so she wasn't expecting a quick reply. 

At midnight precisely, her phone rang with an unknown number. 

"District Attorney's Office, Kirsten McDuffie."

"My name is Wong. I work with Stephen Strange. He has instructed me to call you and to organise a viewing of Mr Graumann's body."

"Really? That's fantastic, thank you! When would be convenient for the doctor?"

"Immediately. That is, before dawn.

Kirsten looked at the phone in surprise. All right, then. Maybe it was some kind of mystic thing, or he only came out at night because it looked cool. "Ah, I'm on duty until 1am, but I can meet you at the morgue by 2? Would that work?"

"Yes, that would be appropriate." Wong hung up the phone. 

Kirsten made it through the last few arraignments of the night, and actually managed to leave almost on time for once. 

The morgue was an unassuming building on the East Side, and even at this time of night there were people coming and going. Kirsten showed her ID at the desk and let them know that Dr Stephen Strange would be arriving soon as a consultant to the District Attorney's Office. The morgue attendant put it all into the computer and directed her to the waiting room. She logged into her work account and checked out previous consultancies by Strange, and while he did tend to show up during the night, he certainly hadn't been quite as fast on previous occasions. Maybe there was something to this magic sword business, or maybe ninjas and magicians and superheroes all just believed in the same stories. 

When Dr Strange arrived, he not only appeared out of thin air, but he was wearing a huge blue and red cape that swirled around him most dramatically. Kirsten managed not to giggle, but it was a close thing. 

"Doctor Strange? I'm Kirsten McDuffie with the District Attorney's Office. Thank you for, uh, appearing so quickly."

"If all is as you say, I would expect agents of the Hand to attack here very soon. Take me to the body of Jaiden Graumann."

"Should we evacuate the morgue?" Kirsten asked, in some alarm. She hadn't meant to put anyone in danger. 

"No, I will deal with the problem myself. The Hand will not be interested in these people, and will not need to confront the guards to infiltrate the building."

"That's good, I suppose." She got the attention of the attendant at the desk. "Could we see Mr Graumann now?"

"Sure, we've got him in viewing room 7B."

Another attendant, this one with bright purple hair and name badge reading Kiara, took them downstairs into the echoing corridors of the morgue. It looked just like a hospital but it was far too quiet – no chatter of staff, no TVs, no background of beeps and electronic hums. Strange pulled his cloak more closely around himself. 

Kiara unlocked the room for them, and folded back the sheet from Jaiden Graumann's slack face. 

"Do you need the whole body uncovered, or just the face for ID?" she asked. 

"His entire body," Dr Strange replied. His voice echoed in the tiled room, whereas Kirsten and Kiara's voices just sounded flat. 

Kiara removed the sheet entirely, folding it tidily as she went. Graumann was wearing a small cloth over his genitals but was otherwise completely uncovered. "Tell me if you need the modesty towel removed too."

"No, that will be sufficient," Strange said, and held his hands flat above Graumann's head, slowly moving his hands down the body as if he were scanning him. Weird symbols whizzed around him, glowing. He paused over the right hand. "Mr Graumann has indeed been in contact with the sword."

Kirsten felt a little creeped out, but okay, there were more forms of energy than she'd ever learned about in high school science. Everybody knew that. "Can you be more specific? Time and date?"

"I can say shortly before his death, but I cannot be more accurate than that. My apologies: I know lawyers and police like to have the details, but I am not a necromancer."

"What does that mean?" Kiara asked, leaning in to watch Strange work.

"There are many different kinds of sorcery. While I have some experience in most branches of the magical arts, my talent is in seeing the unseen and journeying between realms, not speaking with the dead."

Kirsten glanced at her watch. If Strange ran over time she was going to have so much paperwork to do. 

"My apologies, Ms McDuffie. The last prosecutor was similarly focused on having my work done in under an hour."

"Sorry," she said, feeling a little sheepish. "Your consultancy rates mean that if you're here longer than an hour we have to get specific permission in advance."

"I promise, I will only bill you for an hour of my time. An important artefact is at stake."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." That was one thing off her mind, even if she wasn't sure whether she was ruining her own case against Duane Simpson by investigating Graumann further. Still, she didn't want all this mystical stuff coming and biting her in the ass at trial. It hadn't happened to her personally, but she'd heard that juries mistrusted magic as much as they trusted DNA, and its presence made juries unpredictable. 

Strange continued his scan of Graumann's body, pausing again over his left hand, and continued onwards. 

"Ms McDuffie, I believe your source was correct that the sword rejected Mr Graumann. It was happy enough to use him as a carrier, but swiftly abandoned him."

"Great. So there's a magic sword floating around out there somewhere with at least two groups of ninjas and regular old criminals after it."

Strange clasped his hands together and the glowing symbols around them vanished. "Since I have detected its energies, however, I will be able to find it myself."

"Is that a good idea? Won't the ninjas just follow you?"

He drew himself up to his full height, cape swirling. "I will certainly take precautions. And I believe your hour is up."

Strange departed in a final billow of cape and Kirsten raised her eyebrows at Kiara, who was covering up Graumann's body again.

Kiara shook her head. "Never date a guy who wears a cape. Just putting that out there."

"I wasn't planning to, but thanks anyway."

"No problem! This was the most interesting shift I've had all week, and that's including an anthrax scare!"

Kirsten grinned. Medical staff had a gruesome definition of interesting but, then again, so did prosecutors. 

Kirsten checked herself out at the reception desk and headed out to wait for her bus, but a bright swirl of light from the side of the building caught her eye: it was the same colour as the glow that had come from Dr Strange's hands.  
"Hey!" she said to one of the security guards. "Something's going on here, and I think it's my consultant."  
"Okay, stay here and we'll check it out," he said, radioing it in. Two of the guards headed around the corner and Kirsten followed because seriously, how could she not see what was going on. Especially if it was her fault that Strange was involved at all.

Strange was floating cross-legged in mid-air, his cloak billowing out and a glowing sphere surrounding him. A tall, skinny African American man, flanked by two heavily tattooed sidekicks, were futilely hitting at the glowing sphere with a gun, a baseball bat and a plank of wood. More worrying, though, were the red-clad ninjas who had quietly and efficiently taken down the security guards and were waiting for the first three attackers to be done. 

"That's the prosecutor! Hey, grab her, that'll make Strange take us to the sword!" the leader yelled, gesturing at Kirsten. 

Kirsten grabbed out her pepper spray. "He doesn't care about me – don't even try it. You must be Turk?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Thank you for his name," Dr Strange said, politely, and a string of symbols lashed out from his sphere and splattered all over Turk's skin, sliding over his body and glowing in a really creepy way. Turk's eyes rolled back and he turned on his comrades, punching one to the ground and pistol-whipping the other across the jaw. Then Turk himself fell and the symbols dissipated. The red-clad ninjas hung back, wary. 

Kirsten hung onto her pepper spray, though she had no idea if it would work on ninjas. "Thanks, Dr Strange. Any chance you can pull the same trick on these guys?"

"I'm afraid not – they are highly resistant to my magics. The security guards are unharmed, by the way."

"Good." She turned to the ninjas. "You know he's not going to lead you anywhere, and you can't attack him. Why don't you go get Lady Bullseye and we can discuss it with her? I promise we won't go far."

One of the ninjas bowed, just slightly. "You are telling the truth. We will return." They vanished into the night. 

Strange dropped the shield, but he didn't look impressed. "You wish me to negotiate with someone named 'Lady Bullseye'?"

Kirsten put the pepper spray back in her purse. "Better than being ambushed by ninjas for the next year. I don't know much about magic but I know that everyone sleeps sometime. Now we've got a few minutes to come up with a plan."

She took Strange back into the building and went to the desk. "We were just attacked outside the building – two guards and three attackers are unconscious out there."

The guy at the desk looked at her, wide-eyed, then at Doctor Strange.

"No harm has come to your colleagues, but the assailants may need medical attention," Strange told him, and he quickly got on the phone.

Kirsten grabbed Strange's arm and dragged him to the 24-hour Au Bon Pain inside the building. She bought them a coffee each and took a table. 

"All right, I'll tell you what Elektra told me. I don't know how true it is, but she was trying to get me on side. She said that she hasn't been in charge of the Hand for a long time."

Strange nodded. "A Skrull infiltrator. The Shadow Temple in Hell's Kitchen was a power struggle following that revelation."

"Okay, whatever. But the point is, the winner of the power struggle was Wilson Fisk. Lady Bullseye and all these guys work for him, in various factions that he plays off against each other to keep them from going after him. He's not Japanese, though, and he wants this sword as a symbol of power so that the Japanese part of the organisation accepts him. Lady Bullseye is Japanese, but Elektra says she's too new to take over."

"Indeed, they are a very patriarchal organisation," Strange agreed. "Elektra had enough difficulty holding them in check herself. I could keep the sword away from them, but I will have no peace if I do so."

"So, who should have this sword? Is it going to make such a difference? Elektra says she just wants to keep it away from Fisk, but I have my doubts."

Strange nodded and sipped his coffee. "She is an inveterate deceiver. There are matters on which I would trust her, but this is certainly not one of them. Elektra Natchios claimed to be strong enough to lead the Hand, but she is vulnerable to their subtle corruption." He shook his head, looking quite sad. "Everybody who tries to reform them falls victim."

"Okay, so Elektra shouldn't be in charge of the Hand, Lady Bullseye shouldn't be either, and Fisk shouldn't be in charge of anything. He's not even supposed to be in the United States, which is going to make it difficult for him to get hold of this sword, isn't it?" Kirsten frowned. "He shouldn't be here, but if he wants it that much, though…"

Strange nodded, understanding. "Maybe we can organise for him to have it."

A few minutes of planning later, Lady Bullseye strolled into the Au Bon Pain, accompanied by the ninjas Kirsten had spoken to. She wasn't wearing her costume, but instead was dressed in a very nice charcoal pants suit that Kirsten rather coveted. Lady Bullseye wasn't trying to disguise her wary stance or hard expression. 

She bought herself a coffee and joined them at the table. "Ms McDuffie. Doctor Strange. I don't believe we've met."

"Ms Matsumoto."

"You may address me as such if you wish." She turned to Kirsten. "You are proving surprisingly persistent. I had no idea an ADA had such allies."

"Only for $150 an hour," Kirsten shrugged. "It's New York, everyone works for everyone. We brought you here because we have a proposition for you."

"Go on."

"Doctor Strange is able to track down your missing sword. I don't want it to go to Elektra, who murdered a man right in front of me, but Strange doesn't want to keep it, either."

"It is a cursed blade and belongs with the Hand," he added.

"Cursed is in the eye of the beholder," Lady Bullseye said, calmly. Kirsten was glad that she wasn't trying to cross-examine her in court – she gave nothing away.

"So we're willing to give it to your boss. Strange says he has the strength of will to handle it. I know, from my line of work, that your boss is able to cut deals and stick to them."

"What's the deal?" 

"It's a deal he's already made, with one extra condition: he leaves the United States, as he already agreed to do on his release from Rikers, and he takes the Hand with him. Every single one of you."

"Done," Lady Bullseye said instantly. "Give me the sword."

Doctor Strange shook his head. "Our deal is to give the sword to Mr Fisk, not to you."

She looked from Strange to Kirsten and back again. "I will arrange this. At dawn, in the store near the fallen temple."

"Is that enough time?" Kirsten asked Strange.

"It is."

"Then we are agreed." Lady Bullseye got up and left, taking her coffee with her. Good to know that even ninjas needed caffeine. Kirsten sighed and drank the rest of hers. She had to be at work at nine, so she had really been hoping to get some sleep before then, but it was looking unlikely. 

"You wouldn't have a spell to make me feel that I've had a good night's sleep?" she asked, hopefully.

"Yes, but you will then spend the next full day and night trapped in the Realm of Nightmare," Strange replied, and Kirsten could hear the capital letters when he spoke. Well, that didn't sound like anywhere she wanted to be. 

"Thanks anyway. I'll meet you at the temple."

Strange put his hand over hers and a greenish glow briefly shone over both their hands. 

"What was that?" Kirsten snapped, pulling her hand back.

"A minor protective spell, just in case Ms Matsumoto attempts to double-cross us."

"Oh. Uh, thanks, then."

Kirsten didn't know how the mystical types or spandex-clad ninjas got around the city, but she suspected it wasn't the bus. She got a sandwich before leaving, and ate it on the way to the bus stop to travel crosstown. It was going to take her a while to get to the stupid temple anyway, and by then there'd only be a few hours before dawn. She didn't want to risk missing out on the exchange, even if it was dangerous. 

It was cold, raining and still dark by the time she arrived, so she sat in the café where she had spoken to Elektra and waited. Annoyingly, a few minutes after she sat down, Elektra showed up, joining her at the table.

"Seriously? I can't just have my third coffee since midnight in peace?"

"You chose a strange location if you wanted to be left alone."

"Good point. You should leave."

Elektra settled into her chair. "And why is that?"

"Doctor Strange is in charge of the sword search now. And he's not just going to hand it over to you."

"That sounds reasonable. I heard you had a run-in with ninjas earlier tonight."

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'm fine."

Elektra raised the least concerned eyebrow Kirsten had ever seen. "I see. So, how are you intending to manage Fisk, exactly."

Kirsten saluted Elektra with her coffee. "Ms Natchios, I've been pressed for information by worse than you. Why don't you hang around and see for yourself?"

Elektra laughed, suddenly, and her teeth were quite pointy. "Perhaps I will." She departed the café again, but for the next two hours Kirsten had that crawling feeling of being closely watched. She was starting to find ninjas really annoying. 

Just before the time her phone had told her was dawn, she walked across the street to the empty store. This time, the surly lookout let her in. 

As she had guessed, the store wasn't being renovated at all, but there were plenty of power tools around, and various dirt-covered Japanese-looking antiques: a scroll, some kind of stone brazier, a creepy statue of some kind of demonic thing with bulging eyes. 

Lady Bullseye was already there, now in her costume, but there was no sign of Fisk. Kirsten folded her arms, refusing to look intimidated in front of a woman in a body stocking, even if she was deeply concerned that not only were they all going to get killed, she'd get fired for this stunt. Assistant District Attorneys had a lot of leeway, but it wasn't infinite. 

"Ms McDuffie," Lady Bullseye said, with that mix of politeness and contempt that was becoming familiar. 

"Ms Matsumoto," Kirsten replied, though she had no idea of that was the woman's real name or something Dr Strange thought amusing. 

Doctor Strange appeared the moment she thought of him, and Kirsten had to admit she was imagining him with some kind of psychic Google alert for his own name. Vanity, thy name is Sorcerer Supreme. Still, he was being very helpful, she shouldn't mock him just because he liked to get around in cosplay gear.

"Doctor Strange, good to see you," Kirsten said, with more relief in her voice than she had meant to let out.

"And you, Ms McDuffie. I have brought the sword." He produced it from under his cape. Kirsten had been expecting something grand, but it didn't look like anything special: a short, curved sword in a plain black scabbard, with dark red and black embroidery on the handle. 

Lady Bullseye looked delighted for just a second before hiding it behind her usual flat mask. Her painted face helped with that, but Kirsten had a lot of practice looking for micro-expressions in court. Lady Bullseye was barely restraining herself from reaching out for the weapon.

"Yes, I believe that is the sword in question, Dr Strange. Where did you find it?"

"Where it abandoned Mr Graumann to his death."

"We searched that area."

"The sword has no interest in you or your lackeys."

That really stung, Kirsten could see. Lady Bullseye's hand twitched, then she composed herself. 

"The man you are waiting for will be here shortly," was all she said.

A car pulled up at the back of the store, by the loading zone, and Kirsten heard someone very large approaching on the stairs. Her regular debate partner in law school had been a defensive linesman who had got through undergrad on a football scholarship, then gratefully given it up before he ended up with irreparable brain damage. Fisk sounded like he was something close to that size: Kirsten had only seen him on TV and he hadn't seemed so intimidating then, but the staff in the DA's office who had met him claimed that he was. Now everyone, even Lady Bullseye, had moved back slightly from the centre of the room before Fisk had even arrived. Kirsten was starting to wonder if she and Strange had bitten off more than they could chew.

Fisk was a huge man, with a cold and intelligent gaze. Unlike Lady Bullseye, he showed no direct interest in the sword Strange was holding. Instead he surveyed the room like a king. 

"I understand you are trying to cut deals. With me."

Kirsten's mouth went dry, but fortunately Strange was less intimidated. 

"A single deal, yes. However, there is a complicating factor."

"There is?" Kirsten glared at Strange, her paralysis broken.

"Yes, please explain yourself," Fisk added, with a severe look at Lady Bullseye. 

Strange let go of the sword and it hovered in mid-air. "I'm sorry to say that, as Elektra Natchios suspected, the sword has a mind of its own. It will go to you if it accepts you as leader of the Hand. If not, it will not. This is outside my control."

"I'm sorry," Kirsten told Fisk. "This was not made clear to me in advance."

"Ms McDuffie, isn't it? From the District Attorney's office. You are operating far outside your field of expertise, here."

"As are you, Kingpin." Elektra stepped out from a corner which Kirsten could have sworn was empty a moment before. She was dressed in the bright red in which Kirsten had originally seen her, so Kirsten had no idea who she'd managed to blend in.

"Elektra." Fisk nodded politely, his expression not changing in the slightest. "Doctor Strange, you are keeping unusual company."

Faster than Kirsten could follow, both Elektra and Fisk exploded into motion, lunging for the floating sword. Strange threw himself backwards, and Lady Bullseye prudently did the same, but the sword ended up in nobody's hand. Instead, it plunged downwards, burying itself in the floor. The wooden floor cracked wide and it fell straight in, plummeting down to the basement. Someone cried out below, before there was an almighty cracking noise then silence.

"Where's my sword?" Fisk shouted.

"It's gone, sir!" a man shouted back, then groaned and fell silent. 

Lady Bullseye and Elektra both leapt into the huge crack in the floor and dropped through to the basement. Everyone looked through the gap after them, but the sword wasn't there. All that remained of its passage was a narrow hole in the concrete.

Strange shook his head. "The sword has found no-one here worthy."

Kirsten sidled over and poked Strange in the ribs. "The next step!" she hissed, out of Fisk's hearing. Fisk glanced at her anyway, alert to everything around him, but his attention was then caught by Elektra and Lady Bullseye, who were carefully circling each other, looking for weaknesses.

Strange made a spiral gesture with his hands, and darkness appeared on the opposite wall. Kirsten blinked, her eyes not quite able to cope with what she was seeing. A moment later, a SHIELD SWAT team burst through, the portal closing behind them.

"SHIELD! Don't move! Wilson Fisk, you are under arrest!" They swarmed the room, pushing Kirsten and Dr Strange back behind them. One of the Hand ninjas leapt forward and two of the SWAT team immediately shot him. 

Kirsten remembered what Dina had told her. "Something bad happens when they die!" she yelled at the nearest agent. "Clear the room!" 

A terrible smell wafted upwards and Kirsten didn't quite remember what happened next, but then she was sitting at the back of an ambulance with an oxygen mask on her face. 

"Did you get Fisk?" she asked the SHIELD agent standing guard. 

"Yes, ma'am. He's currently negotiating with your boss."

"Good," Kirsten said, then coughed. The DA would wring some good concessions out of Fisk, even if he did have to let the man go in the end. "He shouldn't have come back to the US."

"People like him never trust anyone," the agent said. "He has to micro-manage. We see it all the time."

Kirsten cough-laughed. "Did you get Elektra and Lady Bullseye?"

"No, ma'am. They were nowhere to be found."

Kirsten made a face, though she wasn't really surprised. She took off the oxygen mask and got up. Unlike Elektra or Lady Bullseye, she still had to go to work, poisoning be damned. 

Later that morning, she understood what Elektra had meant by Fisk working more subtly to get what he wanted: she received the results of Duane Simpson's blood alcohol re-test. The sample had been contaminated, so now there was no proof that Simpson had been drunk while operating the forklift. Along with the revelations of Jaiden Graumann's criminal activity, there was no way she could going to make a homicide charge stick now. She sighed and emailed the offer of a meeting to Simpson's defence attorney. If his lawyer was any good, he was probably going to end up with nothing more than a misdemeanour and a cancelled drivers licence. Kirsten was determined to press for the licence cancellation at least – Simpson was a threat behind the wheel.

She rested her tired head in her hands for a moment. All of that running around, $150 of department money to Doctor Strange, two morgue guards in hospital with apparently temporary ninja paralysis, a man dead by Elektra's hand, another on SHIELD's tally, Turk and his buddies in prison hospital with broken bones, the magic sword gone missing, Fisk negotiating his way back to Switzerland or wherever right now and she had almost nothing to show for it apart from a pounding headache. She was sick of superheroes and supervillains and the way they circumvented normal life, every last one of them. The last few days had been enough exposure for a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to SA for the beta.


End file.
